


Recovery

by HatakeKaede



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Post-Season/Series 16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HatakeKaede/pseuds/HatakeKaede
Summary: Andrew's road to recovery was not as seamless as the season 17 premiere made it seem.
Kudos: 10





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> My personal experience with bipolar is pretty limited, mostly to just sharing a hospital room with someone suffering from it for a few days and even then their diagnosis was a tad more complicated than DeLuca's seems at the moment as they would go from manic to depressed to manic again within the same day. They also did this thing every morning around 5 a.m. where they would start slamming the door to the room repeatedly open and shut just like Andrew did during the intervention, so that reminded me of them a little bit.
> 
> Anyway the point I'm trying to make is that the way it's portrayed here needs to be taken with a grain of salt due to my limited experiences and also due to me not being any kind of professional. I did try to draw as much as I could from what I've read upon the topic such as the account of German writer Thomas Melle who suffers from bipolar himself Die Welt im Rücken (unfortunately it seems it wasn't translated to English).

Carina took a few deep breaths and tried to school her features into a neutral expression and hide how tired she felt after the long shift and the impact that the exhausting arguments she had led with Maya had on her. She let herself in and took in the state of the apartment which seemed to be a reflection of her little brother’s state of mind. The only thing that changed compared to her last visit was that there were a few more unopened takeaway boxes and the human shape that was hiding below a mash of blankets on the couch was missing. She could hear the water in the shower running, so she decided to give him a little more time and tried to start on cleaning up some of the mess.  
When the water didn't stop running ten, fifteen or even twenty minutes later, she decided to check on him.   
“Andrea?” she called. “Are you okay in there?”  
When no response came, her heart skipped a beat. She jarred the bathroom door open and her face was hit by a flurry of hot steam.  
Behind the shower curtain she could see the shape of his body leaning against the wall in a sitting position. Carina pulled back the curtain and leaned over to stop the scalding hot downpour of water.  
“Andrea!” she exclaimed, worried as she took in his slumped form still in his pajamas and glassy gaze.  
“Come,” she said as she took him by the shoulders and half-dragged, half-carried him to the couch.  
She retrieved a pair of scissors from the kitchen and used it to cut up his clothes in order to check his upper body for burns.  
He looked up at her with his tear-stained eyes and the expression of pain that seemed to be permanently etched onto his face these days.  
“Mi dispiace,” he mumbled.  
“No, Andrea,” she said resolutely. “You don’t need to apologize. I just wish you’d learn to call me or even Meredith when you’re not well.”  
He huffed and turned his curly head away from her. She didn’t press the matter any further, while he had finally admitted his problem and needing help, he had not yet shaken the embarrassment of having to ask for help even for mundane tasks and more than anything he hated for people to see him at his weakest.  
The doorbell rang.  
“Who did you call?” Andrew asked, his expression like that of a deer caught in the headlights.  
“Relax, it’s not Doctor Grey,” she said. “I just asked Doctor Avery to come have a look at the burns.”  
“Carina, that’s not necessary. I’m sure he’s got real patients,” her younger brother protested.  
She pursed her lips.  
“I just want to make sure it doesn’t scar.”  
“Right. I’m might marred enough on the inside now, no need for it to show on the outside.”  
Carina let out a frustrated huff.  
“That’s not what I meant,” she tried to say patiently even though she knew that her words wouldn’t get through his thick skull right now.  
Instead of engaging the conversation any further, she moved to let Jackson in. She appreciated that the experienced plastic surgeon took the whole situation professionally and when he saw that Andrew was in no mood for conversation, he just went through the examination quickly.  
“You did a great job on the first aid, Dr. DeLuca,” he told her sending an encouraging smile her way. “Most of it looks superficial enough, though there are some smaller second-degree burns, but nothing major. It might hurt quite a bit though, take some Tylenol if it gets too much.”  
Andrew shook his head, gritting his teeth audibly. The message was obvious. This was his pain to bear. Just as he had not felt any of it when he got frostbite on his hands while retrieving a vital organ for a patient during the high of his mania, he would silently sit and suffer through the heightened perception of pain that his neurons were firing in the midst of his depression.  
Carina shook her head at Jackson and put her palm on his back to guide him back to the door.  
“Thank you for coming,” she told him as he paused in front of the door.  
“It’s nothing. We’ve all had our demons in the past,” he said as he shouted over his shoulder to Andrew: “DeLuca, we’re all looking forward to seeing you back at work, man.”  


****

  
Carina fiddled nervously on the seat in the waiting room watching the other patients and their relatives come and go. She looked pensively at Andrew who was sitting next to her, his posture rigid and eyes trained at the ground. Even if they had chosen to seek treatment for him at a different hospital than Grey's Sloan to make it a little easier on him, he still didn't appear to be able to shake some of the shame.  
After a few more minutes a nurse came out of the psychiatrists office and told Carina that her brother's doctor wanted to speak to her first between four eyes.  
"I'll be right back," Carina whispered to Andrew and he shook his head a little to acknowledge that he was okay with it.  
Once inside, Carina launched into an explanation of what had happened earlier that day.  
“Would a hospital stay help him at this stage?” Carina said finally, the effort of having to ask this question causing her great pain.  
The silver-haired psychiatrist looked over the frame of his glasses quickly.  
“I would not recommend it. Especially if what you’re telling me about his support system is correct. Because of the virus rampaging in China the hospital is looking at banning visitors from the premises, they figure it’s just a matter of time before it will explode over here as well. You would be exposing your brother to a completely new environment where he would likely not trust anyone with a possibility of losing any contact with his support system.”  
“Right,” Carina agreed.  
“If you can make sure that he's not on his own for prolonged periods of time, I think we can continue with outpatient treatment in his case. Unless you are really worried that he might hurt himself or others intentionally?”  
The older DeLuca sibling looked thoughtful for a moment.  
“I don’t think so. At least not on purpose,” she mumbled. “It’s just, it’s been more than a week and he’s not improving.”  
“You’re a physician yourself, Doctor DeLuca. You know these things take time and that it’s not rare for antidepressants to worsen the patient’s condition briefly before they get better. Then there’s the side-effects to get used to. And then there's coming to grips with the diagnosis itself. He's barely started therapy and meds. Surely you don't expect a mother to get up and go back to life as if nothing has happened five minutes after childbirth in your position. It's the same with illnesses of the mind."  
"I understand, I'm just worried...," Carina started.  
The psychiatrist raised his hand to stop her.  
"I understand. And I would like to talk to your brother before making a final decision, but unless what he has to say is drastically different from what you told me, my proposed course of action would be to continue as we have started and we can reevaluate in a few weeks if some changes in his meds are needed. Mixing the right cocktail of them can take time sometimes as well and what works for one patient doesn't for another and vice versa."  


****

  
"No, thank you," Carina told the steward as he offered her another cup of coffee.  
She looked over to the next seat where Andrew was slumped and seemingly deeply asleep. During the whole flight he had only woken up once and during that time he didn't say anything and only quickly ate his sandwich and when he saw that she didn't seem to be interested in hers, he also bolted down the other one. While it was nice to see a little of his appetite returning, she worried that it was only a side-effect of his medications, as his apathy didn't appear to be retreating at all. It made her wonder whether she has made a mistake in taking him with her to New York, but she had been unable to cancel her appearance at the conference. She had managed to recruit some friends and colleague who had promised to help her check in on Andrew, but she didn't feel comfortable enough to leave him behind for the three days she absolutely had to spend in New York. Carina had resorted to a ruse in order to ensure company for her brother while she was stuck with her colleagues at the conference, but she worried that the other woman would not have responded if she saw that it was her sending the text.  


*****

Arizona took a sip of the distilled water and used the occasion to study her former roommate more closely. Something had obviously shifted and it was more than just a matter of him growing up from his junior resident shoes. His face was ashen and pale but puffy, eyes red-rimmed and his curls more unruly than she had ever seen them. He played around with his fork on the plate but had yet to take a single bite of the Greek salad he had ordered. He would also not meet her eyes and whenever he caught her looking at him, he’d avert her gaze and instead stared at something in the distance with his glassy eyes. She thought it was impossible for him to ever appear in worse shape than how he looked when he had been very high after consuming a bunch of weed cookies shortly after Sam got deported. But looking at him now, she changed her mind.  
“Andrew, what’s going on?” Arizona asked, a confused expression taking over her face. “I mean you called me and asked me to meet up for lunch and now you sit over there all quiet and mysterious, I might as well think you don’t like me anymore.”  
“I didn’t call you,” he mumbled.  
The blonde woman raised her eyebrows.  
“What?” she mouthed.  
“Carina was the one who send the text.”  
“Why would she?”  
A heavy sigh escaped Andrew’s lips as he dug around in his inner jacket pocket before taking out the prescription bottles out and sliding them over to the other side of the table. His ex-roommate picked it up and studied the label briefly.  
“Oh, Andrew, I’m so sorry,” she said finally.  
"It's what it is," the man responded still averting her gaze.  
Arizona stretched out her hand and brushed her fingers against his.  
"Andrew, look at me," she said and as he looked up he reminded her of the time back when he opened up to her about how he felt everyone was against him after the stunt that Alex had pulled on him.  
As he finally looked up, she whispered putting as much energy as she had to the hug back then and told him: "It's going to be okay."  


****

Carina leaned in and whispered to Arizona: “I haven’t seen him smile this much in a while now. I missed it.”  
Arizona looked over to Andrew who seemed to be fully engaged with Sofia and her game and oblivious to everything else around him.  
“He will get better, you know,” the blonde doctor told the Italian putting a calming hand on her shoulder. She almost expected Carina to flinch at the touch because of how things had ended between them, but the brunette’s eyes were firmly fixed on her little brother.  
“Lo spero,” the older DeLuca muttered just as rattling keys echoed in the apartment.  
“Hello?” Callie called from the door, surprised not to be welcomed by her daughter or partner.  
“Uhm, hi?” she said as she walked into the kitchen, raising her eyebrows at the sight she was met with.  
The siblings returned the greeting with various degrees of awkwardness. Andrew jumped up from the floor as if he had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been and sent a quiet hello to Callie with his eyes glued to the floor. Carina on the other hand came all the way to her personal space and tried to smile.  
“You must be Callie,” she said as she kissed both of her cheeks.  
“Right. And you are?” the other woman asked, though the Italian accent had given her a strong suspicion about her identity.  
“Oh, sorry. I’m Carina and this is my brother Andrea,” the Italian rattled off.  
“Huh,” Torrez started and sent her partner a questioning gaze. “Arizona, could I speak to you in the next room?”  
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the blonde by the sleeve of her sweater and dragged her to the bedroom.  
“Did you just bring an ex into our home?” Callie spat out at the same time as Robbins said “It’s not what you think.”  
“It’s not? Then explain.”  
"It's about Andrew," she started. "Besides I think Carina is already seeing someone."  
"What about Andrew?"  
"He's sick."  
"Sick? Is he dying?" Callie asked.  
"No," her partner said resolutely.  
"Well, you can't really blame me for coming to that conclusion. Seattle Grace - Mercy Death and all that. Somehow I don't expect people there to fare better just because it's called Grey-Sloan's now."  
Arizona chuckled sadly.   
"Anyway, Andrew's not dying. He's bipolar just like their dad," she said as Callie's eyes widened. "He's working on getting better, but he's not doing so well right now. Carina needed to come to New York because of a conference and..."  
"And she thought she'd call in a favor and have us babysit?"  
"Well, when you put it like that," Arizona said.  


****

“This seemed like an occasion that called for vodka and orange juice, but given the circumstances I just brought the juice,” Amelia called from the door after DeLuca let her into the dark flat.  
“Right. Because vodka and mood stabilizers don’t mix that well.”  
“Uh, I guess. Mainly they don’t mix with the recovering addict in the room,” Amelia deadpanned as she waved with her right hand. “Hello.”  
“I’m sorry,” Andrew replied as he dug a hand through his curly hair.  
“Apology granted,” the neurosurgeon said as she sat down next to him leaning against the couch.  
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said through clenched teeth. “You should be with Link and your baby.”  
“Link and the baby are just fine. I’m here because I want to be, DeLuca. You were there for me with my tumor and I haven’t forgotten that. So why don’t you stop fiddling around and just tell Auntie Amelia what’s wrong.”  
“Everything.”  
“I see,” Amelia said, a soft sad smile playing on her face.   
“Do you?” he said harshly.  
“Yes, I kind of do. In a way I’ve been where you are right now, I have felt completely empty and hollow before. And the only way out I saw was starting to start taking drugs again.”  
“What stopped you?”  
“A friend.”  
“How?”  
“He told me that he knows the tunnel is long and dark, but if I don’t use, the tunnel will end and the light will come back in.”  
“And you believed him?”  
She laughed.  
“Of course not. But look at me now. If I had used, the tunnel would never end for sure. I’ve scraped through enough such tunnels to know that even if I tell you that yours will end, you won’t believe me right now. But if you decide to hold on for now, a day will come where the sun will shine into the tunnel and you will see all the way to the other side.”  
Amelia woke up to the smell of fried eggs entering into her nostrils. When she opened her eyes, she found that she was lying on the couch of Andrew’s apartment under a soft fluffy blanket. Still in the clothes from the day before, she jumped up and walked to inspect the situation in the kitchen.  
DeLuca was standing at the stove, showing her his back which seemed just a little less slumped than it had before their conversation last night. She wasn’t naïve enough to delude herself into thinking that everything was okay with him now, but her heart jumped a little when she saw him in a little of his old stride returning to his step.  
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.  
He jumped a little at the sound of her voice, but then he turned his head around and returned the greeting.  
"I think there's still some juice left over from last night," he offered.  


*****

  
“What have you been up to?” Maggie asked as she settled on the couch that had welcomed quite a few visitors over the past few days.  
“Uh, not much,” Andrew replied, his face overtaken by an expression that a student who didn’t do his homework might show when confessing said deed to his teacher.  
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get to work then.”  
Andrew shook his head in confusion.  
Maggie dug around her bag until she took out a tack of dark blue cards and handed them over to him.  
“What’s this?”  
“Memory cards I used when studying.”  
Andrew frowned.  
“I don’t understand.”  
“Your boards, DeLuca. They’re coming up in a few months.”   
“You’re joking, right?” he hurled at Maggie as he stalked off to the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind himself before proceeding to reopen and slam it for another few times. When Maggie carefully approached the door, she heard him slumping to the floor with a heavy sob.  
She tried to open the door, but he had locked it shut.  
She sat down leaning her back against it on the other side.  
“Andrew, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
“It’s not you, Maggie. I just…my brain’s all fuzzy and empty from the meds and when I try to concentrate on anything, I just get this terrible headache. And when I’m not trying to concentrate, my brain just keeps replaying all the stuff I did before…or what I could do, “ he tried to explain his voice breaking.  
“I know it’s hard, Andrew. But you will learn to cope and function with this. It just takes time.”  
“What the hell do you know about it?” he snarled.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You know absolutely nothing Maggie. Or have you ever felt what it’s like to be betrayed by your own brain, no longer being able to trust your own judgement on anything?”  
Maggie huffed on the other side of the door. She had learned a few years back that there was no point in trying to talk Andrew out of his misery when he wanted to feel sorry for himself. She took a few if the cards and pushed them over to him.  
“I’m gonna leave this there with you in case you decide to give it a shot and try to study. If you want to go over it together later, I’ll be waiting in the living room.”  
It took a few minutes before she heard the bedroom door open again and heard him come back into the living room. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and sat down on the floor and took the first one of the cards and started to write something down all the while gnawing at the pen.  
Half an hour later he had gone through three of the cards and written two and a half pages. He offered them to her without a word.  
Maggie scanned through them quickly and said: "Okay. It needs a little more work, but it's definitely not bad for a start. In fact I knew some people who did worse than this at their boards."  
"Did they pass?" he asked.  
"Well, no, but if we continue to work on it, you will."  


*****

  
Andrew leaned back in the passenger seat of Meredith's car.  
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Mer?" he asked for the third time since she had picked him up at his apartment.  
"Yes," she said. "The kids wouldn't shut up about spending some time with you all week. They miss you."  
He couldn't quite repress the smile at hearing that.  
"Besides getting some fresh air will do you good as well. And as a bonus you get an escape from Maggie's clutches for the day as well."  
Andrew laughed a little.  
"I appreciate her trying to help me, but it can be a little extra sometimes," he commented Meredith's sister's efforts in helping him prepare for his boards which he would take later in the year.  
Neither of them spoke about the real reason why Meredith had planned a picnic with the kids for today, namely the fact that he was expected to return to work tomorrow and she had hoped it would help to decrease some of his anxiety about that. It was an elephant in the room just as the state of their relationship. It seemed that there were several of those between them now, but Andrew for his part was ready to accept whatever she had to offer in that regard. Besides, he needed some more time in order to stop seeing himself as damaged goods which were not worthy of her affection now.  
He tried to put on a smile on his face even though he was still a little nervous as the car pulled into the Grey families driveway.  
Link was standing in front of the house, waiting with Meredith's three children.  
As Andrew got out of the car, he found out that his nervousness was completely unnecessary. As he stepped out, Bailey ran into him and hugged his legs and soon Ellis joined him. Zola remained a little further away, pretending to be all grown-up, but she told him: "We missed you. Are you feeling all better now?"  
"I missed you guys too," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm on the mend."  
Luckily Amelia came to his rescue as she walked out of the house, carrying a picnic basket which she passed over to Meredith.  
"You guys have fun," she said.  


****

Andrew put on his jacket and slammed his locker door shut. The first day back at work had been exhausting not just because he kept second guessing every decision, but even more so because of all the stares and whispers. While he had been the center of similar attention before, both when he first came in as an intern and without knowing exactly how got mistaken for an attending which ended up earning him a grudge from his fellow interns, and then once again in the aftermath of Karev's beating. But today was different. It made him relive all the shame which he had felt over the past few weeks when ever looking back at the actions he had taken during his mania. With all the staring and whispering, he felt even more like he had been marked for life and he might as well be wearing his diagnosis on his forehead.  
He had seldom wanted to get out of the hospital as quickly as he wanted today. He hurried along the corridor slumping his bag over the shoulder. He was hoping not to run in to Carina or anyone else who would pester him with questions about his day and his feelings. His wish was not to be fulfilled because shortly after he got on the elevator, it stopped on another floor and Dr. Shepherd and Link walked in carrying their baby son in a carrier bag attached to the orthopedic surgeon.  
"Hey, DeLuca," Amelia greeted.  
"Hi," he said briefly.  
"First day back, huh?" she asked.  
"Yeah. How's the little one?" he wondered, trying to change the topic as quickly as possible.  
"Oh, he's perfect," Link said with a proud grin. "We just went in for a check-up and he got a perfect bill of health."  
"That's great," Andrew commented, trying to inject a little enthusiasm to his voice.  
Amelia's face confirmed that he had failed spectacularly at that, but instead of commenting on it, she leaned into her boyfriend and whispered something into his ear and he shook his head in agreement.  
Once the elevator stopped on the ground floor, Andrew tried to run off, but he heard Amelia saying a quick goodbye to Link and their kid and her chasing after him.  
"Come with me," she instructed when she finally caught up with him.  
"Isn't this Dr. Webber's house?" he asked when Amelia pulled in to a driveway of a cozy suburban house.  
"Yup."  
She motioned to him to get out of the car and follow her. When she rang the bell it took a little time before the older doctor opened as he had still not fully recovered from his cob alt poisoning.  
Looking at the guests he just mumbled: "Right." and moved away from the door in order to let them in.  
"Dr. Shepherd."  
"Amelia," she interjected.  
"Amelia, " Andrew corrected himself. "What are we doing here?"  
"We're having a meeting," she replied simply and pushed him inside.  
"I don't understand," he said.  
"Look, DeLuca," Weber started. "You wanna tell us how angry or sad or whatever you are about all those bastards that have no idea about anything but keep talking about you behind your back? You wanna tell us how you want to break something or maybe you want to complain about how overbearing some people are and how tired you are of being smothered by their extra care. We're here to listen and we won't judge and nothing you will say will leave the walls of this room. Okay?"  
"Okay," Andrew whispered.  
"Okay," Amelia echoed a little more cheerfully and offered each of the man one of her palms.  
Amelia and Richard started reciting:

_God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  
courage to change the things I can,  
and wisdom to know the difference._

As Andrew closed his eyes and listened to them, he still wasn't absolutely sure that everything would be alright, but he knew that there would be a safety net ready for him should he fall again. No matter whether he found their attention just a tad too smothering at times, he vowed to make sure that everyone who had stood by him over the past few weeks, would get to know how much he appreciated it.


End file.
